


Smile for the Camera

by feferi



Category: Homestuck, MS Paint Adventures
Genre: F/M, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-20
Updated: 2012-05-20
Packaged: 2017-11-05 16:14:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/408432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/feferi/pseuds/feferi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based off of the fine art by inksteaks, the two business “partners” had decided to stop toying with sly digs and subtle prods towards the changes the Batterwitch was beginning to implement. Instead, the two well-known public figures wanted to put their rebellion into motion. And what better way than to piss her off with what she was wanting to stop and control? Never gonna stop sloppy filmed sex.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Smile for the Camera

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, this is my first time doing something like this, so.. I had fun but it’s anything but perfect. Uwah. u~u  
> Also! This was written before Alpha!Dave and Alpha!Rose's deaths were revealed.

“You’re not going to stop until you finished, are you? The video feed is most likely being traced to — ah… our location.” A faint voice whispered among a symphony of sloppy smacks of reddened flesh. “You’re getting risque.”

There was no answer vocally. A hard thrust in reply. Physical for vocal, it was only fair. He went deeper that time, feeling the sweet insides squeeze down against him. His showmanship was repaid with nothing but mere scratches against his shoulder blades. Shit was totally worth it. 

It took a minute or two to regain a witty retort worthy to be said, a grunt or two slipping past his lips as some form of filler. Kind of like a prequel. Hardened thrusts drove him deeper inside, and the friction caused him to purr like a kitten.

She liked that.

Nimble fingertips traced against the back of his neck, feeling the baby-fine hair that he hadn’t bothered to get shaven this week. Public appearances were hard to predict, after all. 

It was then that his breath was against her, tantalizing her into a coma of euphoria he wanted her to fuckin’ stay in. His words finally spoke, hanging on the tip of his tongue.

“You think? You know I finish what.. fuck.. I start. Doesn’t matter if they’re on the way, got plenty of viewers watchin’. If they get here before, then they got some front row seats to the greatest show on Earth. You gonna smile real big for the camera, J.K.?” 

Even with the softness of his voice, his throat let a confident smirk filter upon his features. The feeling of her was enough to make him feel confident. He was with the hottest piece of ass he’d ever come across. 

Sure, there were bimbos in the form of groupies; chasing him around like he was some kind of nut a prehistoric squirrel was chasing. Yet, no one compared to her. The sway of her hips. The way her perfume stung against his nostrils and the way she kept wearing it for that reason alone. The flicker of insecurity when she spoke about the future. Maybe it was how she moaned his name like she loved him. She was a classy broad and he was lucky as fuck to be balls deep in her. 

This went beyond the both of them. Okay, maybe a few drinks during their rebellious rendezvous wasn’t the best icebreaker after it had been months since she graced him with her presence. It sounded good on paper, right? A literal “fuck you” to the Batterbitch. Who the hell was going to try and stop the basic human instinct of finding a nice warm hole to fuck? It was basic science class, really. The in-disguise alien overwhore had to learn you don’t fuck with a Strider and you don’t fuck with a Lalonde.

“Please, insult me further with such comparisons. Would you want me to get the ruler out — ahn!” He shut her up with a quick bite to the neck; his wandering organ exploring against the pale skin while the video recorder continued to buzz in the background.

“Only if you can fit a fuckin’ ruler in that big mouth of yours, Lalonde.” His hand moved, pushing down against her sensitive nub that rested above his penetrative workings. 

“Just shut up and don’t stop, Strider.” 

Her legs squeezed against his hips, clenching and pulling him deeper towards her. Those nails dug deep, slicing through his short blonde strands to cradle the back of his head. Like talons holding onto their pray, she kept him still as he assaulted the corner of her neck.

Dave.

Rose.

**Dave.**

_Rose._

They alternated each of their names in sync to their dominance. Rose, even as she laid sprawled upon the unkempt bedsheets attempted to push against him. She wanted to swallow him whole. And Dave? He was more than willing to donate to a needy cause. Yet, he was the one running the donation box. His fingertips were slicked with a sweet gloss, rubbing quickly as he could feel her tighten around him.

“Do it. Do it for us, Rose.” He urged on, trailing his tongue against her ear. His shielded vision caught the camera giving a coy smirk. “Be political, baby, rock the fuckin’ vote.”

He didn’t care how stupid he sounded. The heavy pants that escaped from his lungs were proof that he was thinking with his other head. He was getting close, just as he promised he would. It wasn’t for pride, it was for the principal.

Rose’s hand shot down from her hold on Dave’s shoulder, finally clenching onto his wrist that went into overtime to help the established writer reach her epilogue. And Dave was getting the first fucking edition signed personally.

She came. A whimper that was unusual for the outspoken and brash woman. As her body convulsed underneath him and her eyes fluttered shut, Dave moved his hand to slip his fingers between hers. With laced digits, he gave a squeeze, watching as she writhed in pleasure.

But, what about the supposed star? He pulsed once or twice more before his face pulled from the curve of her neck. It was a look, even behind the darkened eye wear, that was full of something more than just a lust and join for a fight.

He was in heaven. Doing fuckin’ Bugs Bunny spasms on the moon. He felt lightheaded, tense, and sore all in the same moment and he didn’t even get started. For the first relieving sensation of shooting off inside of her, he was shocked. It felt as if he had thrown her around the room and fucked her twenty ways from Sunday in twenty different positions. Yet, it was missionary, go figure. Given they had an audience, but.. it made sense.

There was something about Rose Lalonde that was straining to be with, like living with your teacher or something. He strived to be better just because she was worth it.

She let off a disapproving tone as he slowly snapped back to his senses. A perked brow and a challenging look was all he gave, knowing she’d blab her mouth about that for a week.

“Don’t ruin the experience. Just kiss me before we’re shot up by alien lasers or something as ridiculous yet tragic as that.”

Dave paused, looking to the camera, than to the woman that laid straddled underneath him. She was still breathing heavily and he’d note that. The way her breasts moved slightly with each exhale. Shit, he should do this for a living.

There was a silence between them for the second time. No witty remark. No sarcastic insult. No intellectual jab that Dave was too dumb to understand. He swept his hand against her cheek, cradling it for a moment before his lips pressed to hers. It was sweet yet he could still taste the vodka against her tongue. 

She didn’t drink unless they met. Dave found it a little odd, but maybe being forced to deal with the impending fuck ups of humanity was a bit too much for the collected businesswoman to handle. Contrary to what she liked to act, she was only human. Dave’s lips were dry, pulling away as his own tongue flicked against his set to wetten them. 

Opening his mouth to speak, there was no words to follow. Instead, the sound of a crashing thud echoed down the hallway. Whatever motel they were shacked up in must have had some of the Crocker’s corrupt guards infiltrating the building.

Rose naturally shot a concerned glance towards Dave, but he was already pulling out and pushing away. Literally. 

“Get your wands or whatever the hell you use now out. And here..” He was quick to throw his button up shirt to her as he hiked his boxers and pants back up. There was no time to slowly slip her back into that ridiculously complex dress. Fuck women’s fashion.

Dave’s hands went for his briefcase, flicking the locks and eyeing the pieces inside. It was his pride and joy. Something not even Rose saw. Yeah, bringing out the big shit. It was his weaponry, which he never had the pleasure to bring out in public yet.

“Dave.” Rose spoke softly, a concerned voice as her fingers danced across the plastic rounded buttons. “Don’t let this be our last time.”

Dave pressed his tongue to his cheek, glancing back to her with a confident smirk. “Gotcha.”

They weren’t ready. The kick of the door and the hail of the oddly colored bullets seemingly slowed time around them. There was silence soon after. 

The visitors of the motel didn’t remember any couple in Room 203 and they didn’t recall a police break in. It was like nothing odd occurred at all that day. The video feed, however, still hummed with the roll of a live broadcast. Yet, the frame were nothing but tinted red. Sizzle. Crack. Pop, the video feed cut to black.


End file.
